by Luke Bennett
It is difficult to convey the atmosphere of a fully staffed operations room in the midst of an exercise or nuclear attack. Silence and stillness would be unnatural, so to counter this, a film of the ROC in action is projected onto the wall. This provides something of a human presence and repopulates the space with sound and movement.
The smell of the building is reminiscent of many institutional buildings of that period, particularly those built by the Ministry of Defence. However, this is the scent of the structure rather than the people: there is nothing that replicates the odour of 60 plus people crammed inside, working under pressure for a 36-hour training exercise with limited access to washing facilities! Fragrance and memory are often linked – many ex-ROC personnel fondly remember the waft of fish and chips, illicitly enjoyed during training – but re-instating such a transient smell might have seemed a little incongruous with a story of hardship and necessity. Although sensory experiences such as smell and sound have been proven to accentuate the likelihood of participants retaining the message and therefore ‘learning something’ (Laird 1985), falsely re-introducing these elements would have felt contrary to the ethos of authenticity which English Heritage’s curators insisted on. There is also a concern that introducing sensory elements puts the emphasis on the visitor’s present experience rather than the experiences of the ROC volunteers, reducing it to mere spectacle. Therefore, it was decided to reintroduce the sounds of the Royal Observer Corps in only one room, using footage of original volunteers taken from early training films. Using original training footage rather than dramatic re-creations was felt to be important in retaining a sense of authenticity. Projecting images and the accompanying dialogue and sounds reinvigorate the large space of the operations room with a sense of activity and industriousness. This activity is central to conveying what the building might have felt like with 60 people engaged in a training exercise, but the unobtrusive way it is used as ‘background noise’ ensures that the visitor’s attention is focused on the building, its objects and the narrative as related by the tour guide.
CURATING THE SUBJECT: MESSAGES AND MECHANISMS
If then it was possible to create an accurate and enveloping backdrop to a visit, grappling with the messages to interpret the space was less straightforward. What combined experience were curators offering? Immediately it was understood there were two extremes in the narrative: a macro analysis of the Cold War and a micro dissection of the particulars of this facility. Ask the general public what they know of the Cold War in general and most will have some concept, whether from memory, experience or its portrayal in film and television. Narrow this to the threat of nuclear war and its devastating consequence, and many will still have a response. But the nature of Britain’s defence against nuclear attack is not widespread knowledge, and when discussing the Cold War, visitors are likely to mention world events, not local effects. Knowledge of the ROC and their role is the preserve of a very small minority, but through exploring these individuals’ service a sense of the wider context can be invoked.
ROC Group Headquarters, as structures, have limited familiarity in popular consciousness. As Luke Bennett (2011, 20) reflects, they are among a class of bunker which ‘largely have no narrative, no clearly ascribed place in national memory. Their recording, preservation and portrayal is left to amateur “enthusiasts” or the ambiguity of small museum status.’ The discreet – although never secret – manner in which they operated, combined with their rapid and unceremonious conclusion, has led to their anonymity.
There was a potential contradiction in the interpretation of the space given that the bunker was never used for its primary purpose. Curatorially that is not an issue when presenting a late medieval fortification never besieged, but could lessen the impact if mishandled with such a modern narrative. Many late medieval fortifications were not built for engagement but as a show of power and reassurance, true perhaps for the bunker also. Perhaps the juxtaposition of mundane, familiar objects with the uniquely dangerous threat of nuclear warfare heightens visitors’ emotional responses. While 20 Group Headquarters was never used for its intended purpose, its very existence speaks volumes about the fears and dangers of the period, serving as a monument to the seriousness of the nuclear threat.
One blunt tool to counter the perceived anonymity of the building was to switch its name from No 20 Group Headquarters to York Cold War Bunker – recognition of the intrigue that the ‘Bunker’ word could generate. Yet at the launch, curators had not really defined what the public relationship to the building might be. Only subsequently has the discipline of bunker studies, of which this volume is testament, sought to understand more deeply the nature of our attraction to these alien places. Bunkers are perceived as dark, sinister, psychologically complex and otherworldly. But to what extent though was Paul Virilio’s (1994, 11) response on entering a bunker of ‘being immediately crushed’ associated with decay and risk, of changed environment? How much of the allure and mystique found in bunkers is wrought through the sense of brutal nascent power conjured by decay and monotone, stark backdrops? As with many abandoned buildings 20 Group Headquarters carried a mystique when first excavated by curators in 2001, but five years later the freshly painted green walls, mown grass banks and assiduously prepared interiors felt more like an office building without windows than a tomb, womb or catacomb. Indeed this may be the point – that the experience of being in a concrete bunker, that primary sensory and psychological agitator, is quickly pushed to the background through the mundane utility, order and unexpected familiarity of much of the interiors: uncomfortably familiar and ordinary – human. The interiors produce a contradiction between the bigger picture and the local; geopolitical games and the volunteer individual; awesome, terrifying power juxtaposed with a homemade analogue response. It is this contradiction that primes the lasting and perhaps most disturbing reaction: was this our response to Armageddon?
Interpretation within the bunker tackles these two extremes. A short film appropriately screened in the canteen where ROC recruits received some of their training situates the building in its context summarizing the causes of the Cold War, the effects of nuclear weapons, the government’s response to the threat and the particular role of the Royal Observer Corps. It is a deliberately emotive piece using archival footage of actual and dramatized scenes of nuclear testing and warfare set alongside earnest public safety broadcasts about the duties and roles of the individual during a crisis. The film (with a BBFC PG certification to ensure all visitors are able to watch it) provokes strong emotions and questions. The discordance between the power of the nuclear weapons and the futile recommendations of the official public safety films is marked. For those who lived through and were affected by the Cold War the subject can be disturbing, awakening dormant memories of the perceived threat. It is not uncommon for older visitors to be watery eyed or on some occasions crying at the end of the film. The fact that this film overlaps with many of the visitors’ lifetimes and memories makes it more relatable and conceivable. Visitor feedback has emphasized this ‘realness’:
Being so recent makes the experience more ‘real’ – many of us will have lived through the Cold War but, like me, probably unaware of its frightening implications … I took two 10 y.o. children, and we watched a briefing film (in the underground canteen) about the background to the cold war, but it was me who was left emotionally disturbed by what I’d felt and what I’d learned.
– Dave (Trip Advisor 2013)
For some younger visitors the imagery in the film means they cannot watch through to the end. Yet the greater challenge with a younger generation is that for many the Cold War is already ancient history: their reference points come from popular culture and the nuclear threat blurs into fiction. For that generation the film can be revelatory. As reality kicks in so does empathy, and that is a powerful tool in learning (Pawlik 1991). Ultimately the film sets up an understanding for the rest of the tour. Delivered in a dispassionate way, it ensures that visitors
consistently receive an impartial account of a divisive period of history.
Accuracy and a defined interpretation are key to the main tour, but guides must also find their individual approach to the whole. They are more than just automatons but must appear to be leading a conversation – every tour seems fresh and tailored – that is as much part of the experience as viewing the building itself. They deliver to a wide range of ages, group dynamics and levels of pre-existing knowledge. They expect a range of questions, both factual and philosophical. For those, ‘Would it really have worked?’ moments there is no definitive answer and guides must be equipped not only to give an answer that is informed, but also to encourage debate and accept differing moral positions. Visitors are reminded how the occupants would be cut off from their families and unaware of events above ground. The lack of ornamentation emphasizes that this is a place of work and function rather than luxury and long-term survival.
Imagine that you live in England in the 1950’s or 1960’s and you have volunteered to be part of a nuclear bomb tracking group. Your job is to go underground for 30 days in a bunker at the first warning of a possible nuclear leaving your loved ones behind to report back to the government which might not be in existence any more about where the bombs fell and the level of radiation outside your bunker. In order to determine the radiation levels, you have to go outside of the bunker to collect radiation data.
– Donald (Trip Advisor 2013)
Harris (2009, 51) praised the use of tour guides as the main method of communication, ‘This offers a far more personal and face-to-face method of communication…. The guides are able to “pitch” their tours differently … proving more flexible than traditional text panels’. Her observations are backed up by visitors who frequently thank tour guides for the lively accessible way in which they brought the authentic ‘set’ to life, explaining the significance of ordinary things and the measures taken to ensure survival.
The tour guide offered a great insight into the workings of the site with many articles left in situ, the perfect way to learn about the Cold War.
– Kraig (Trip Advisor 2013)
It’s difficult to get down on here the atmosphere inside but through the exhibits and tour you really can get a sense of what it would have been like.
– Cubish86 (Trip Advisor 2012)
I have never been [to] a heritage site before that has struck me so vividly. Maybe it’s because the bunker was in use for at least some of my life-time, but I think the way the interior has been preserved and the story-telling skills of our guide would have had an impact on teenagers as well. Haunting and unsettling, a visit to the bunker will stay with you for a while after.
– Hannah (Trip Advisor 2015)
THE FUTURE
One visitor’s feedback really summed up what the curators had tried to achieve:
I … worked in very similar buildings at Maidstone and Aberdeen. For me it was just like turning the clock back twenty odd years, the smells, sounds and memories all came flooding back…. English Heritage have done a wonderful job with the restoration and it was [as] if the observers had just got up and left. I must admit I was half tempted to have a go at triangulating a bomb burst or have just one last go at being a post display plotter. So if you want an authentic cold war history experience do please visit. Forget the rest of the so-called ‘secret’ bunkers you can visit round the UK they’re normally just full of ex army [sic] junk, this is the real thing – cold, sparse and where the last few minutes of humankind could have been lived out.
– Carol (Trip Adviser 2013)
For someone who was ‘there at the time’, to succinctly describe all that English Heritage hoped to convey is a great indicator of its success. She summarizes the interplay between the building and its objects and how they create an authentic stage for experiencing this period. But is the generation for whom bunkers and Cold War hold a nervous attraction dying out? At some point the experiences will drop from first-hand memory. Are the Cold War and ROC capable of bridging the gap between contemporary memory/relevance and the kind of romanticized elusive past that drives the appeal of Britain’s heritage industry?
In truth English Heritage cannot rely on its traditional audience to sustain this heritage attraction. The bunker is expensive to run. Operational costs are high, and the limitations of group size and number of tours will always mean that English Heritage must work near to full capacity. Yet whether as a result of the subject matter, or its separation from the heart of the city it attracts just a tiny percentage of visitors into York. Experience has demonstrated that English Heritage cannot depend solely on the traditional entrance fee/tour exchange. Currently staff are focusing on making it relevant, utilizing the spaces, making connections between the public and the bunker. For younger adults the bunker can be retro, quirky and cool; the Cold War storyline deeply embedded within their own popular culture references, design motifs and finishes echoed in style magazines. Recent attempts to apply this philosophy have included running a ‘Cold War Cinema Club’, screening appropriate films in the canteen, allowing a composer to create a musical response to the bunker which was then performed by a 20-strong orchestra bathed in coloured lights and working with artists and film archives to reinterpret the space and attract new audiences.
York Cold War Bunker was not an obvious or an ideal site for English Heritage to schedule, restore and open up to the public. But perhaps more so than English Heritage’s older, more traditional sites, York Cold War Bunker allows the exploration of themes relevant to the present day, through diverse disciplines such as art, music, science and film. Although English Heritage took great care to ‘freeze’ ROC 20 Group Headquarters at a particular point in time, the bunker also has great potential to inspire and provoke and these creative responses will continue to make it relevant and interesting to a growing audience.
NOTE
1.The Royal Commission for Historic Monuments in England (RCHME) was merged with English Heritage in 1999. This brought together the statutory body for regulating heritage protection with the organization responsible for managing and caring for historic monuments in the protection of the state. This arrangement was dissolved in April 2015, when the organization split into Historic England, a non-governmental public body which aims to protect England’s historic environment through preserving and listing historic buildings and providing advice to the government and the public, and English Heritage, a charitable trust which manages the National Collection of historic buildings in state care and their collections.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bennett, Luke. 2011. ‘The bunker: Metaphor, materiality and management’. Culture and Organization 17(2): 155–173.
Cocroft, Wayne & Thomas, Roger. J. C. 2003. Cold War: Building for Nuclear Confrontation. Swindon: English Heritage.
Harris, Samantha. 2009. Bunkers and Blockbusters: An Examination of Approaches Taken in the UK for the Interpretation and Exhibition of Cold War History. Unpublished MA Museum Studies dissertation. Leicester: University of Leicester.
Laird, Dugan. 1985. Approaches to Training and Development. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley.
Pawlik, Kurt. 1991. ‘The psychology of global environmental change: Some basic data and an agenda for co-operative international research’. International Journal of Psychology 26(5): 547–563.
Thickett, David & Richardson, Emma. 2008. ‘Preventive conservation research for plastics on open display’, in Brenda Keneghan & Louise Egan (eds.) Plastics: Looking at the Future and Learning from the Past. London: Archetype, pp. 89–96.
Trip Advisor. 2013–2015. Trip Advisor Reviews: York Cold War Bunker. Online resource available at: http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Attraction_Review-g186346-d1796961-Reviews-York_Cold_War_Bunker-York_North_Yorkshire_England.html
Virilio, Paul. 1994. Bunker Archeology. New York: Princeton Architectural Press.
Chapter 13
Atoombunker Arnhem
An Architect’s New Uses for Old Bunkers
Ar
no Geesink
INTRODUCTION (BY LUKE BENNETT)
During the summer of 2013 a young Dutch architect, Arno Geesink, contacted me to tell me about the new uses he and his enthusiastic collaborators were planning for some abandoned Cold War and Second World War bunkers in the Netherlands town of Arnhem. I interviewed Arno about his group’s motivations and their hopes for the subterranean structures that they had explored. This chapter is an updated and extended version of Arno’s account of his projects and motivations.
Arno’s stance represents an interesting cross-over between the desire to preserve bunkers as heritage and the urge to re-purpose them. Arno’s interest in his local bunkers is spurred by a complex mix of recreation practices, heritage interests and a desire to bring about commercially viable exploitation of abandoned spaces. The unusual spatial and situational properties of Arnhem’s abandoned bunkers present both challenges and opportunities for him: notably, Arno’s attentiveness to the need to work within the special constraints of these bunker spaces, which reflects both his architectural training and also the embodied experience of him squeezing his 6 foot 4 inch body into confined spaces, as an urban explorer.
The idea of an abandoned city beneath the everyday street haunts his narrative, but also I think there’s a strange tension between the urban exploration frisson of discovering secret spaces (shown in Arno’s group’s exploration films available online1), and the projection of re-purposing onto these now-found spaces (as expressed in Arno’s design work). Ultimately, Arno’s architectural instinct seems to win out, for there’s an implicit acceptance of the view that we should strive to bring ‘dead’ space back to life when and wherever found.